Every Kiss Begins With Crane
by krazysmiles
Summary: Crane meets an old childhood friend at a robbery. He recalls their experiences together and gets caught up in the moment. CraneXOC
1. Flash Back

Sarah Collins had been that one exception. She had been the only person in Jonathan Crane's miserable existence that had ever shown him compassion. The only one who had treated him with tenderness.

"Crack", Crane fell to the ground in a twisted heap of spindly limbs as his hands scraped against the linoleum floors. The books that had once been in his hands were now splayed in disarray across the floor.

"Alright scarecrow it's either you or your book. So, what's it going to be? ", the bully sneered.

"Why don't you just leave me alone…? Why do you have to make me choose?" Crane bit out in a shaky voice as he pulled himself from the floor and onto his feet. "Just leave m-me alone." he said as he narrowed his now watering icy blue eyes onto his tormentor. He hated them.

"Aww it looks like the Scarecrow's going to cry." A voice taunted from behind.

Crane spun his thin frame around in surprise at the additional bully. He began to feel a sense of impending doom as he realized there were no opportunities for escape. "Why can't you all just leave me alone?" Crane shouted, his eyes watering with rage.

In response Jonathan only received the answer of swollen fists. He was knocked onto the ground once more. His head swirled with pain as he forced his shaking legs to support himself. A red liquid fell onto the white tiles staining the floor. Crane's hand rose to wipe away the blood that was now dribbling from his nose and lips.

"Shut it loser. And since it seems you can't make up your mind…" the first bully drawled out.

"We'll have to choose for you." finished the second bully as he clamped his meaty hands onto Jonathan's narrow shoulders.

The husky jock in front balled up his hand into a fist that nearly eclipsed the entirety of Crane's head. Jonathan closed his eyes as he prepared for the routine impact of fists colliding with his lanky body. He grimaced at the thought of what would most definitely be a new addition to the collection of bruises he had acquired between pummelings.

The fist never landed that final bruising blow.

"Ricky Johnson and Bo Griggs what are you two think you're doing!" called out a feminine voice that Jonathan had not heard before. As he looked up from his wire frame glasses he noticed both "Bo and Ricky" were wearing an expression he had never seen on their faces. It almost reminded him of the expression of guilt. Though he doubted it was meant for him.

"Sarah what are you doing here." Ricky faltered, eyes looking about nervously.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Do you want to get in trouble again? You know you can't go to the principal's office again." Sarah was looking over the scene and assessing the damage.

"C'mon Sarah you know we're just messing around. I mean it's not like anyone was hurt." Bo reasoned showing a winning Colgate smile.

"What are you talking about, nobody got hurt? He's bleeding!"

"But he's a freak" Ricky whined trying to draw the obvious conclusion for Sarah.

"Look just get out of here before someone walks by and sends you two to detention." She said her green eyes flashing. The boys were trouble makers and doing an annoyingly proper job of exasperating her patience.

"But…" said Ricky

"Just get out of here." She spoke evenly hoping to inspire some haste.

"Alight, c'mon Rick let's leave Miss Freak-out with that loser Scarecrow" Bo said in a carefree manor, as he raised his hands above his head and stalked away, waving pleasantly at Sarah.

Sarah turned her attention to the lanky boy who was leaning on a locker with a bloodied chin. Her features softened as she looked at the careful posture of Crane. He was clearly in pain, but he was unlikely to attend to his wounds in the nurse's office himself.

She approached Crane slowly and evaluated his injuries." Are you alright?"

Jonathan slowly lifted his cold blue eyes to meet her warm green eyes. "I'm fine." He mumbled out in confusion at the clear concern that radiated off of her form. Why would she be worried? But before he could retreat into the safety of the bathroom where he could properly clean his wounds the girl reached into her shoulder bag and removed a tissue.

She took the tissue and lifted it up to Crane's wounded face. She softly tended to his wounds for fear of making him experience more pain than was necessary. She rubbed the blood off of Crane's jaw line, washing away the crimson stain.

Jonathan felt his heartbeat, thumping inside his chest at a ferocious pace with the closeness between this overly kind blond. He felt his breathe hitch when his glasses fell to the ground.

She smiled and picked up the glasses politely returning them. Crane merely stood on the floor with his mouth hanging open and his eyes widened in both disbelief and joy. To say that he was shocked would have been the understatement of the century.

In all his life Jonathan Crane had never been touched for any other purpose besides being hurt. He had never been hugged, kissed, hell even his own grandmother wouldn't shake his hand.

He recalled a time when he was five he had noticed how all the other boys would hug their parents. Being the naïve child he was he believed that this was the proper conduct of a child and guardian. So, he decided to try and hug his very own grandmother in hopes of removing her disparaging cruelty. The end result of this feat was a long and narrow scar across his back and the psychological trauma of being locked inside a basement for four days with no provisions and only the company of rats. He promised himself that when he was older all those bad memories would be inflicted on that wrinkly hag tenfold.

Through torture he had come to understand he was not meant for affection and should guard himself accordingly.

But if these facts were true why had she touched him so carefully. Why had her hands felt so soft as she gently sponged away the smears of blood? Most importantly, why was his heart throbbing at such a rapid pace?

His thoughts were interrupted when the girl spoke in a voice that sickened him with the blind concern held at its core. "Are you okay?"

" I suppose so…" his voice trailed off as he began to move his aching limbs. As he brought himself into a straighter standing position so he would have a chance to better evaluate his savior. She had blond hair accompanied by warm green eyes. He noted with a blush that her body was pleasing to the eye.

"Well that's good." she said with tilt of her head, suddenly flicking her arm out towards Crane, startling him. "I'm Sarah by the way"

Crane nervously clasped her hand into his own with one sharp movement of his long arm, "I'm Jonathan Crane."


	2. I Cannot Live Without Books

The long trip home seemed shorter than usual. His lengthy strides moved fluidly across the hard dirt road with lightness that he had never known. His face for the first time in years had contorted into an ebullient smile. Jonathan Crane was happy.

Even when he reached the treacherous Kenny Manor his spirits could not be dampened, well at least not completely.

"Well Jonathan it looks like you've finally come home after dawdling about with those hussies and heathens that go to your school. Tell me boy, what filthy things have you done today", Grandma Kenny replied with her usual thin lined scowl.

"I didn't.., haven't done anything grandmother," Jonathan replied his blue eyes bright with trepidation of the horrors to come.

"Don't lie to me son, don't you dare lie like your skank of a mother did. You were in another fight weren't you Jonathan."

"I-I-it wasn't my fault", he whispered in a small voice that was blown away like Fall leaves in the wind.

"Looks like it might be time for another lesson Jonny-boy. Maybe this time it will purge you of Satan's wicked influence."

"No, Grandmother pp-please don't," he said with wet eyes threatening to spill over with drops of bitterness.

"Whose fault was it, boy?"

"Mine i-t it was my entire fault. I shouldn't cause trouble. I'm always causing trouble", he said. Years of abuse and maltreatment had taught him that the only acceptable answer for his grandmother was that everything was his fault.

If it didn't rain on the right days it was his fault. If someone tripped and fell it was his doing, and if he was beaten and bruised so badly that he could barely walk it was his entire fault. Everything was either his doing or his fault, and it was for that he was always punished.

"That's right it's always your fault. Your nothing but trouble, I should have buried you in the garden when I had the chance. It comes from your whore of a mother. Now get to bed there will be no supper for your misdeeds," old woman said with an ugly glint in her eyes.

"b-but."

"No buts, guilty boys do not receive supper for their sins."

Crane sighed in despair as he ventured upstairs into his room. It would be yet another night that he would go hungry, and his only lullaby would be the groaning of his empty stomach.

As he lied their in his stiff wooden framed bed his mind began to review the entirety of his day. A small smile ghosted across his face as thoughts of a certain blond haired angel rose to the surface of his mind and danced a graceful ballet about his head.

Sarah.

That had been her name, Sarah. He started to pull the starchy covers over himself his blue eyes warmed a couple of degrees.

When he returned to the formidable fortress of learning he would no longer be confined to solitude. He would no longer be without allies. He would have a friend.

His mouth suddenly pulled down into a hard line at the thought, and his molten blue eyes frosted over into an icy tundra. Who was he kidding, he was just instilling false hope that would later only result in disappointment and hurt.

Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

**The next day: High School**

Crane rushed across the halls at a frenetic pace. His long gait pounded against the tiled floors. If he didn't hurry he would be in the pathway of a hostile army of sporty jocks followed by a legion of vengeful bullies. The very thought of encountering either had Crane running at a breakneck pace.

Finally he reached the desolate location of his humble rusted locker. He rapidly spun the dial around and ripped open the corroded metal door. He hastily collected his necessary effects, and deposited the heavy weight of his backpack.

Now all he had to do was slip into his class and seat himself at the rotting wood structure which his school dared to call a desk and he would be safe. None of his persecutors could touch him.

With cat like tread Crane furtively scanned the halls for on-coming dangers. Seeing none he sped his pace to cover as much ground as he could, and continued down the daunting corridor. _**Just a few more steps.**_

"Hey it looks like the scarecrow is out of its cornfield", boomed a voice from in front of Jonathan.

Crane's eyes widened with dread as he trailed the blue orbs up towards the hulking figure that was his nemesis, Bo Griggs.

"Bo… I was not aware you were enrolled in chemistry", Jonathan said as he shifted his weight around from leg to leg.

"I'm not… But I've got a great formula for breaking ribs, want to be apart of the experiment?" Bo said with a smirk that could have made lesser men tremble.

Jonathan swallowed hard at the implications of Bo's not so cryptic statement. However unlike previous encounters with Bo, on this occasion he was not being flanked by his cronies. This time Crane had options.

"Principal Landau it is very good to see you on this fine evening", Crane called out across the vacant halls.

Bo Griggs's countenance paled and his body began to tremble. _Crap I'm going to get suspended again. _But when Bo turned to face his looming punishment he found nothing but an unoccupied hall.

Crane had bolted from his spot next to the immense Griggs like a demon possessed, making a mad dash for the crumbling shambles of the chemistry lab.

If there was anything Crane prided over more than his own intellect it was speed. Being endowed with preponderant stringy legs and arms was as much of a blessing as a curse. He considered it as a curse in the fact that it was the predominant cause of most of the ridicule and misfortune that befell him, but a blessing in the prospect it allowed him to out run any of the lumbering jocks. Without these abilities he would have never been able to survive for this long against the tireless persecution of the monsters that freely roamed the schools halls.

Crane was fast not just from genetics but from necessity. Had he not been so well despised by the masses, he could have been on the track team. He could have exceeded any man alive on the track with his lean pace. Crane however, was not one to tempt fate with the tantalizing prospect of him getting the ever loving crap beat out of him by the entire track squad. He was many things but suicidal wasn't one of them.

Personally he found team sports to be meaningless attempts to prove ones own strength against another. Thankfully, he had never held an interest in the mindless droning of group work. He was a loner, one who took all his pleasure from companionless reading.

Books held nearly all of his endearments. Flipping each individual crisp page brought him into a world of adventures and safety, away from the misery of a cruel real world.

Crane slammed his book down hard onto the worn wooden desk. He stretched his overextended legs into the crevices of his uncomfortable desk, and crossed his arms to let his sporadic breathing catch up with him from his crazed race.

Unlike a great many of his peers, Crane actually listened and paid his full attention to the lessons at hand. Even if he had already the teachings or could recite the answers alphabetically nothing could deter his hungry gaze from a fresh bout of knowledge.

Today was different, today his ever steady gaze began to wander about, and his mind was no longer focused on the lesson at hand.

No, on this day his intention was bemused with the ware bouts of his blond haired Goddess who had shone such mercy onto his life. Deep down he knew this façade of friendship he believed was held between them would be his folly. It was a foolish faith to hold but he clutched such aspiration firmly to his heart. He truly feared that if this fantasy of falsehood were to shatter he too would break.

"_**Ring"**_

Crane shot out of his desk like a bolt. As he left for the halls he spotted the golden tresses of his Goddess divine. "Sarah!" he called out towards the woman. Instead of answering the girl merely walked past Crane and into her next class.

Crane's once brightly lit features were now covered with a dark cloud of omniscience. Sarah had been no different from the rest. When he believed he had found salvation he only felt the stings of rejection. Nothing in his life had ever changed for the better it merely took on contrasting flavors of agony.

After he went through most of his tiresome classes lunch arrived in no time at all.

Jonathan frowned upon the sorry state of his lunch: one apple. Still it was better by far to going hungry. Crane snatched up the apple and approached the library. _Why couldn't Sarah have been different she could have been so right for Me._, Crane thought as he slid his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Deliberately he flipped the wrinkled pages of the well worn book.

A voice abruptly startled Crane from his reading. "Hey umm… your Jonathan right."

He shut the book with a short snap and raked his eyes upwards with a glare that could have stopped hearts.

This was the only place Jonathan Crane didn't have to hide, the only place he could have peace. Anyone who dared to disturb his sacred serenity would pay dearly.

"What do you wan---, Oh Sarah I didn't realize it was you." he said going from furious to nervous in a split second.

"If you're busy I can leave. I didn't mean to disturb you" she said as she sheepishly ducked away while fidgeting with her golden locks.

Crane jerked with a start from his seat into a towering standing position. "I'm not busy at all. I just wasn't aware that it was you."

"Are you sure I mean I can leave if you want. I needed a book but I can get it later if you want."

"I don't want you to leave! I mean that is you do not have to. I'd be more than willing to aid you with my assistance in locating your book."

"Thanks."

"What is the title of the book you needed?"

"Oh,… ah I don't really have a title; I just need a book on psychology."

Crane's mouth flitted into a narrow smile. He had thumbed over a large number of psychology books and was overjoyed in the fact his deity shared some of his same interests. "What branch of Psychology do you need your book to be on?"

A rosy blush made its way onto Sarah's cheeks. "I didn't realize that there were different branches of psychology."

Normally Crane would have scolded a person for not knowing such a trivial fact, but instead merely offered up a terse smile of sympathy.

"If you'd like I could walk you through all of the books until you find something you like" Crane said after creating a wide arch of his arm gesturing to all the rows of books upon the shelves before allowing that same hand to stray through his short brown hair.

"O.K., umm do you have any suggestions?"

"It depends… on what you're interested in."

Another delectably bright blush graced her creamy skin. Crane couldn't help but notice how adorable the crimson shade looked on her sweet flesh. He considered briefly what would occur if he skimmed his hands over her blush stained cheeks and pulled her down tightly into his chest and… He furiously shook away such lustful thoughts and berated himself for even thinking such fruitless aims that would only end with the scars of rejection.

"I honestly don't know much about psychology, sorry, but I need something for science. I have a project on basic psychology, and I'm lost."

Out of some type of duty, debt, or something much more passionate Crane felt that it was his responsibility to help this woman.

"Alright I think I have an idea of what you're looking for. Follow me." Jonathans slender skimmed over the thousands of books lined row upon eternal row until he came to a sudden halt.

"Here you are." Crane exclaimed sliding a well thumbed through book out of its dusty living space. "Beginner's Psychology, this should guarantee you at the very least an A." He said with his eyes alight with a strange emotion that neither he nor the girl in front of him could place.

"Thank-you."

"You're welcome"

As both of the awkward teens made there way to the checkout counter Sarah turned towards Jonathan.

Both of her hands wrapped themselves firmly around his torso and squeezed tightly. Her head rested lightly upon his chest, and he recalled being able to smell the smell of strawberries before he too locked his arms around the small of her back. He wished that he could have held her like that in his embrace forever, but alas all good things must come to an end.

The hug had only lasted about three or more seconds before she retreated but it had been enough. For the first time in his life he felt loved.

A yearning grin spread across Crane's face,_ she had hugged him. Maybe she is right for me._


	3. Homecoming

**AN: Guess who's back. Sorry for the wait I've been stuck on these next few chapters so any who. Here we go.**

Chapter 4

As Crane passed between his classes with renewed vigor he founds words of ecstasy ready to flow through his lips at an infrequent discovery. There at the foot of his row sat Sarah with her pouting lips consumed with the tasks of conversing and chatting with her neighboring comrades. Overcome with both the need to speak even the simplest menagerie of words to the sunny haired girl and a strange sort of complex courage. The sort of bravery which is sometimes developed in the hearts of even the lowliest of cowards when faced with such strong longings for companionship as he was now faced with.

Crane rose from his seat gently placing his books ways on the tattered classroom carpet. Each step he made seemed to echo the pulsating thumps of heart. Every movement he made seemed to betray his nervousness. His own heart thundering against his chest clawing for escape like a feral beast.

Reaching the desk of the delicate and pure angel and thus crossing philosophical fires of cowardice, Crane brought a pregnant stillness into the room. Not a soul spoke, not a students breathed for fear of disrupting the foreign impossibility being played right before their listless eyes.

The two figures flanking the sides of his beloved put a cease to their trivial harping, before they too fixed their hostile irises onto the unlikely scene before them.

But Crane had spent too long planning and awaiting this confrontation to be so easily intimidated. No, he would not have the flickering candle of courage so easily snuffed from him. He would not falter.

"Sarah, it appears that I have the good fortune of sharing a class with you," Crane smoothly delivered a new sort of predatory demeanor.

"Oh, you're in this class?"

"Quite right." He says as he glances down at an empty seat.

"Would you like to seat with us?" Sarah reluctantly offered noticing his expectant glance.

Crane would have refused such generosity ha it been offered by anyone else, but as the words exited her mouth he could do only one thing.

Jonathan hurriedly picked up his books and made his way to the offered space, by the time he had taken his seat he was grinning ear to ear with pride. Despite the rogue glares that were being fired at the back of his head he could barely disguise his excitement of simply being honored with the opportunity of such closeness between his porcelain beauty.

As Crane strode down the isle with his books firmly anchored by his fists, Sarah noticed that for not a single moment did his smile fall away. _Odd. Why is he so happy?_, she thought.

Out of the corners of her eyes she noticed that every so often Jonathan would stare in her direction. The behavior itself wouldn't have bothered her as much as it did if he would have said something, anything. But he didn't; he just stared at her like she was a brand new episode of his favorite sitcom. It was unnerving. When his blue eyes shifted once again towards her being she was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with the state of her dress. _Maybe there's something stuck in-between my teeth,_ she thought to herself as she forced her attention back onto the lesson at hand.

Crane's gaze clawed hungrily up and down the visage of the girl's entirety. Absorbing the prominent curves of her body to the soft feature of her face. He just couldn't get enough of her. He had to literally tear his eyes from her before he started to drool like the other mentally challenged apes that he had the distaste of calling his peers.

He could barely hide his lust for her but now he'd be content with her friendship. That would be enough. That would have to be enough because it was more than he had ever had with anyone.

That's how most of the class went. Instead of paying mind to the teacher, Crane locked his full attention onto the girl besides him. When class came to an end Crane still sat entranced.

As Sarah stood from her chair, Crane quirked one eyebrow above his blinding blue orbs in confusion.

"Where are you going?"

"To my next class. You know, because this one is over."

"Oh!" Crane said his cheeks staining with blush. (How on earth did he miss that, great, she probably thought he was some sort of slow moron.)

"So what's your next class?" Sarah questioned in a half-interested tone.

Books now in hand, Crane turned towards her and smiled softly, "English" and with that her pressed his glasses to his forehead and exited the classroom.

If there was more time left to get to class and less bullies always roaming the hall forestalling the inevitable venture to the educational chambers. He would have at least basked in this girls' glowing essence but as it was …He was already cutting it unnecessarily close.

His large feet brushed the ground in flaring determination. There was about another two minutes left before the cover of the clotted halls dispersed, leaving his towering form a beacon to any hungry predators—ones that delighted in tormenting their prey instead of respectfully devouring them.

Today, unlike a great deal of others permitted Crane to cycle through all of his seven periods without skirmish.

Then lunch arrived with the calling of the bell signaling the hordes of ravenous teenagers.

"Hey Sarah."

"Oh, hey Nicole."

"What were you thinking sitting next to creepy Crane? Are you crazy?"

"No, Nicole I'm not. Besides, he's not creepy he's really sweet."

"Yeah, about as sweet as a lemon," Nicole chided. "But whatever, he's just so weird you know."

"No, O.K. he's a little wierd. Anyway let's get to lunch"

Usually Crane would have eaten his lunch inside the only place that even the bullies feared: the library.

Unluckily, today the library was closed, which meant that he'd been forced to eat in the unsafe zone of the cafeteria. He let out a tremendous sigh. It figured that even his good days would be sprinkled with misfortune. Maybe today they wouldn't bother with him. _Yes, if he just stayed out of sight, he'd avoid their radar,_ he thought as he pulled his baggy long sleeved shirt farther down to cover his wrists.

He truthfully, couldn't remember the last time he had worn something that had ever fitted him perfectly. His clothes were either rags or covered in so may patched, they might as well been the thread bare rags he usually cloaked himself in. Never was the material that made up his trousers or shirt length enough for his arm and legs. Because of this it only enhanced his appearance of a tattered scarecrow.

It was like this personification of poverty and hunger that Crane strolled into the cafeteria. He rapidly scanned the open tables for the one that could easily overlook by the disquieting heathens.

It was this type of table that he fully intended to sit at until he spotted her.

There she sat encircled by friends with a smile on her peach lips. He wished that smile was meant for him. He wished that he could have been the one making her smile like that, making her giggle. He wished that she could be his. For now he had her friendship.

It was on that note that he took the first steps on the journey to her table.

"Hey is that the creepy Crane kid?" Nicole whispered to Sherry.

"Yeah. Why?" Sherry whispered back.

"Because he looks like he is coming to sit over here." Nicole said with disgust.

"No way!" Sherry chided

"What are you guys talking about?" said Sarah.

By now though the subject of their conversation has strutted to their table with a conceited smirk and an eyebrow raised, "Do you mind if I join you for lunch, ladies…Sarah?" said Crane.

Sarah didn't know what it was about this overly confident Crane that unnerved her. It was as if the scared little boy had fled away leaving the cocky intelligent young man that had just invited himself over. But that didn't matter she still deferred to her manners in this case.

"Sure…Jonathan," said Sarah.

Surprise washed over his features as he took his appointed seat. He had no clue as to what force has possessed him to make such a daring approach. The fact that such an approach had bought him a seat riddled him with shock.

As he masterfully sat himself in close range of the object of his affection Jonathan prepared to initiate a preplanned conversation. "So how did your project go?," If things went accordingly Jonathan figured that within the next three month he would be a close enough friend to Sarah to be able to hang out after school.

"What project," Sarah asked dumbfounded. (_That explains a lot. He's probably just over here because he's part of some group project I have to do with him, although for the life of me I can't remember for which class. Think Sarah think, which classes are we in together.)_

(_So much for meriting hanging out after school privileges within the next three months, at this rate he wouldn't be within those liberties with one year of perfect conversations. Oh well a year really wasn't that long.)_ "The one on Psychology?"

"Oh yeah, I got an A on it thanks for the help," she replied. _(Whew thank God that was the project he was talking about. I thought I forgot to do my homework.)_

"It was my pleasure." Well at least she hadn't forgotten he existed.

Sarah felt extremely uncomfortable talking to Crane not because of his practically non-existent popularity, but because of the fact that they had no common ground to strike a conversation on. She barely knew the guy for Christ's sake. Sure she was class president of freshman year and devout student council member, but that by no means meant she enjoyed speaking to everyone. She might have a moral obligation to be friendly and amiable to all, and maybe she had a little clout on bullies like Bo, but still she wasn't psychic. So, being an average high school girl she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Are you going to homecoming?"

Jonathan nearly suffocated on his milk when he heard those words exit her mouth. _Did she have the slightest clue how impossible it was for him to remain living in the average teenage setting let alone the usual anarchy of a dance? He was lucky if he was ignored by predators in situation supposedly guarded by teachers, let alone those bereft of chaperones. Honestly was it really that big of a mystery as to how school shootings broke out, or even that big of a surprise when stabbings broke out among students. As far as he was concerned the educational board should just be grateful that gang members at school didn't know how to manufacture nuclear warheads._

"No I most definitely won't be attending."

This answer brought Sarah from the depths of boredom, and into responsive consciousness when she heard that. She had to blink her eyelids a bit to make sure she wasn't asleep. In all her life she had never heard of someone not attending their high school dance.

"What do you mean you're not going? Everyone goes." Sarah asked exasperated.

"Well I don't"

Curiousor and curiousor. He was skipping the dance. To her it was unimaginable, the stuff of fairy tales were made of. "Why?"

"Honestly, look at me. If that doesn't answer your question nothing will," rebutted Jonathan bitterly. Though sadly he did indeed know how to dance, he also knew it was fruitless if there was no one to dance with. In accordance he had forsaken all and any school dances, like a nun entering a life of celibacy. He came to the conclusion that he'd rather not waltz at all than join the dance and appear a fool.

"So what, you don't even need a date to go to the dance," she threw back. Sarah was impassioned. As a sworn officer of student regulations and committee work she firmly believed dances were sacred festivals, which were taboo to miss. She would do anything just to stop someone from missing such an important event of high school culture.

"I know that," Crane spat incensed by the direction the conversation was taking, "It's just that I don't see the point ingoing if there's no one worth dancing with."

Sarah didn't know what alien force possessed her to say what she said next, but that she instantly felt regret and joy for it being said. "Well if your so worried about there being no one to go with, you can dance with me."

Crane was shocked, really, honestly shocked. He felt as if he had be struck down by thunder, and than resuscitated by angels. He was almost a hundred percent sure he had just imagined that last part.

"Excuse me, What?"

_No going back now._ "You can go with me." (_Crap did I just say that? Please say no. Please say no. Please say some thing.)_

"You are most definitely worth dancing with. I'd be delighted to go with you, Sarah," he replied with a surprised smile.

Apparently she really did say what she thought she did.

"Um, O.K. Jonathan. Um, I'll see you at my house at eight." She was confused how did this go from lunch to a date.

Considering who Crane was going to the dance with he could have cared less if once he got there Bo decided to snap his leg in half. All that mattered was that he had a date. _(Maybe instead of waiting three months to hang out after school I can start spending time with her after school in one week.)_


	4. It Sucks to Be Me

Sarah flitted across the plain white carpet of her room delineating between which dress would appear the most becoming on her shapely frame for the school dance. The first dress was a deep hue of red that reached mid-thigh, the second an off-white strapless dress that reached mid-thigh as well. "Sigh, All right. Let's see, I want to look good, but I also want to dance. Decisions. Decisions." In the end the dress of choice was decidedly red.

After finishing dressing, Sarah started on her make-up and then hair, taking as much time as necessary to forestall the inevitable. In exactly one hour Jonathan Crane would be at her door. _What the hell did I get myself into? Why, oh why, am I so nice?_

"It's not a date," she told herself firmly, "It's just a dance with a boy who happens to be my friend." Even to her ears that definition sounded flimsy.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was moving like a flick of light through the rooms of the Keeny Manor praying that grandma Keeny would not be woken from her stupor by the raucous he was making simply trying to locate a finer piece of cloth that would not make him appear as skinny as a rail post or fit him loosely enough to be considered a curtain. There was one suit that he did know for certain would fit to perfection. _Damn it all. Of course it would be that godforsaken suit._

Cautiously, pulling the grim fetish from the closet and slipping into the black tux, Jonathan looked himself over. _He looked… presentable._

Now all that was left was getting to the girl's house and past the withered old prune that stood sentry between him and escape. As Jonathan crept down each individual step of the staircase the sticky perspiration of fear coupled with the prickly sensation of nausea covered his head with a thin sheen of sweat. "Jonathan, boy. Where do you think your going?" There at the bottom of the stair case sat both his jailor and grandmother.

_Oh, crap in a bucket. Oh, damnable circumstances. _"No where important." _Please buy it._

"Liar." _No such luck._ "I found this flyer under your bed while I was trying to purge your room of Satan's wicked influence through the good Lord's holy water."

"I can explain. I was…"

"Shut up you ungrateful brat you were going to that dance to indulge yourself in sin."

_Maybe he could try reasoning with her._ "It's just a dance grandmother. I'd only be dancing."

"You'd only be dancing," she mocked,"You'd only be relieving yourself with the nasty pleasures of the devil's bris."

Surprisingly, this wasn't the only time Grandma Keeny had insinuated such zealous theories on what he happened to do with others in his free time. However, it was the first time that the revelries in which he was participating were un-related to his favorite pass time of reading. "Grandmother this isn't fair. You can't do this to me."

"Don't use that tone with me, boy. In fact it looks to me that you won't have to put on your suit tonight, seeing as you're already prepared for your punishment."

Jonathan knew that putting on this hated suit was an omen of doom. It was the end of all hope as his grandmother dearest violently grabbed his ear and drug him to the dreaded aviary, away from his only chance at normality. "You need to be taught a lesson, boy"

That night the only song Jonathon heard was the garish warble of grandma Keeny singing _"Hallelujah" _coupled with the painful dance of the crows biting into his flesh, tearing at his skin.

Sarah shuffled about the wooden entry way of her home anxiously waiting for Jonathan to appear at her door so that she could slap him senseless. He was late. No she could forgive him for being tardy. But she could not forgive him for being over an hour late. Where was he?

Twirling a blond lock upon her fingers Sarah made her decision, she was going with or with out him. She wasn't about to let her current charity case turn into a lost cause. When she saw Crane at school tomorrow, there would be hell to pay.

The next day of school was sheer torture for the disaster prone teen. Crane grimaced as he recollected the aching hymns of religion that his grandmother was insistent on singing as though she was a dedicated choir that thought it necessary to chime in each time the priest finished preaching or in this case when the black winged harbingers of death finished their mutilations.

This punishment was astonishingly enough the least physically damaging despite the un-healable scars he was suffering from psychologically. This time the humiliation that he had endured only encompassed the total shopping list of two bruised ribs and several scratches. The less important damage grossed psychologically would take much longer than the usual two weeks that his injuries took to mend.

Crane frowned with each footfall as he continued on his walk to his locker. He was in no particular hurry despite the fact that he was no longer within the protective membrane of safety that the traditional timeframe in which he arrived to open his iron hulled locker would allow. He was in such melancholy that he could honestly care less if Bo or any other bully decided to wail on his delicate bony body. The one time fate had offered the temptations of joy it held a series of hundred strings attached to it. These strings which the three blind sisters would ceremoniously sheer to have that same happiness ripped away, only to slap him in the face. Figures.

As Crane finished discarding the useless items of his backpack a hand gently placed itself onto his skeletal shoulder. A shiver of human terror ran up the length of his spine and resided into the pit of his stomach as foreboding. He turned to face the source of the wintry chill, only to discover with his whirl around that it was none other than perhaps the only girl who he had ever conversed with. "Hey, Sarah I'm sorry about the dance."

_**Smack**_

Sarah's hand collided with Crane's cheek, creating an angry welt. Her eyes blazed with contempt. "You're sorry. You're sorry for making me wait for over an hour for you," the blond spat out, "A whole entire hour with no call. No nothing. You, You, You… skinny scarecrow." She emphasized the last part with two hurting pokes at his already wounded ribs.

Crane accepted the hurtful sting of the slap and the fury driven words like the way a prisoner on death row would accept the unsatisfying slop that would serve as his last meal with morbid enjoyment. At least he would have remained submissive until he heard the last two words of her incensed speech bringing him to war and ending his inner armistice.

His eyes narrowed as hatred filled every crevice of his core. When she brought her slender finger down to land one last livid poke his long fingers wrapped about her small hand like a serpent would wrap around a dormouse crushing bones until its organs failed and life left its heaving lungs. "Shut up," Crane bellowed, "Don't you dare call me that ever again."

"Jonathan, let go your hurting me." Jonathan's grip loosened but his hand still firmly enveloped her hand. When she looked up into his eyes in confusion, she realized that in all her life she had never seen eyes as dead and wounded as his. She felt like she was drowning underneath millions of tons of water, being crushed and ripped apart by the blue undertows of turmoil. "I just… I'm…Why didn't you tell me that you didn't want to go?"

Jonathan's rage faltered at her look of genuine hurt. He almost forgave her, but the wounds were still fresh and needed time. "If anything you will apologize for hurting me," he returned with sullen determination.

Maybe she had overreacted just a tad. "I'm sorry"

"Are you really?" Jonathon had his doubts on how sincere she truly was.

_Am I really?_ "Yes. Why didn't you show up?"

"I can't answer that." _He really could not._ "It was unplanned. Something came up." _That something being a murder of homicidal crows._ He instinctively winced at the memory as the pain in his ribcage flared causing him to remove his hand from hers to cradle his abrasions.

"Jonathan, are you okay?"

"Yes" It came out as a grunt and obvious lie.

"You're lying. Let me see your chest." There was no way in hell she prodded him that hard. There was something seriously wrong. She pulled at the fabric of his baggy shirt to reveal a tangled web of black and purple bruises. "Oh my God. How did you get those?" She felt horrible. She felt sick. She felt curiosity gnaw away at her mind. _How on Earth did he get those?_

"I fell down the stairs?" He silently prayed that she'd accept such a ridiculous answer_. It was plausible right?_

"Did you fall down ten flights of stair? Because otherwise I find it hard to believe that you could have gotten those bruises that way."

"Please let's just drop it. I don't want to talk about it" _At least she wasn't a dumb blond. That was good. _

"All right but you can talk to me about it if you need to." She'd leave it off for now or at least until he looked willing to talk. Right now he looked cemented to silence. _Poor guy._

"Dually noted." The conversation might have ended with Crane still felling pissed had Sarah not wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered sweet candied words of comfort.

"I'll see you later in science Jonathan."

"Right, I'll see you later as well." Crane cursed himself vehemently for the goofy grin stretched across his lips and the unethical way he had simply forgiven that blond temptress for practically assaulting him. _Damn her. Damn him._ _Did she really wait for me for a whole hour?_


End file.
